Thursday, June 14, 2012

not a pretty sight (or my dressing room ordeal with spanx)

Around mid-April I began noticing that my pants were fitting a little more forward to now where my "just in case the weight comes back" jeans don't fit.  I refuse to buy new jeans.

I've been hitting the gym at a pretty frequent rate for the last couple of weeks.  I've upped my veggie/fruit intake. I've cut out soda. I'm not adding salt. I'm watching my portion size. I decided to go to Spanx or other such brand for help (it's not like I'm in any position to be picky).

I went to Target, because I figured there's no one lurking around wanting to help me...(cause let's be honest no one really wants to help someone look for tummy hiding undies).  I opted for two types, an undie that offered superior support and a camisole that boasted it's "tummy tucking" skills.  I reached the dressing room with five of the items in assorted sizes.  Then it began.  I wiggled, and jumped and who knows what else to get myself squeezed in.  The underwear style worked at getting my jeans to fit, I'll give them that.  So I put my top on over to see the overall look.  Below my bra area and above the (crazy high) panty line was all the jiggle that was missing from my tummy. That was not going to work. I moved on to the camisole, which may have worked, had I been able to somehow get it on...but it just kind stuck around my shoulders.

I went back to the body shaper section. I grabbed two pairs of those super long shorts, that cover from below your bra to over your thighs. Getting into them was still not pretty, but I made it.  I tried the overall look again...well hello back fat, I don't believe we've met...I sighed.  I didn't sit down to ponder (I had images of splitting the seams and having to run from Target never to return again).

After working myself out of the tummy/thigh control shorts fiasco, I quietly put my items on the "no thank you" rack and handed over my number card thingy without making any more eye contact than necessary and fled the store.

Hello sweatpants, I'm home.

1 comment:

  1. Ouch. I feel your pain. Hence, Anonymous


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